<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Stolen Moments by pasiphile</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28092039">Stolen Moments</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasiphile/pseuds/pasiphile'>pasiphile</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Realm of the Elderlings - Robin Hobb</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:13:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28092039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasiphile/pseuds/pasiphile</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>With his relationship with 'Lord Golden' gone sour and his life as a servant weighing on him, all Fitz longs for is the comfort of the familiar.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>FitzChivalry Farseer/The Fool</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Yuletide 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stolen Moments</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_alchemist/gifts">the_alchemist</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is possibly more comfort-y than the hurt/comfort you asked for, but after all they've been through, I felt the urge to cut them some slack. I hope you still enjoy it!<br/>Also, fyi: this is set somewhere during Golden Fool – I imagine it as after Jek’s big reveal and their fight, but with all the rampant homophobia surgically removed. So consider it an AU of some sort.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun was already down completely when Fitz returned to Lord Golden’s rooms, no light but the moon illuminating the beautiful furniture and lavish carpets and hangings.</p><p>Fitz dutifully did the rounds of the rooms, lighting the fat candles both in the anteroom and in Lord Golden’s bedroom. Despite the emptiness of the rooms, his presence somehow still hung around. In the carelessly discarded garments, the various scattered pots of fragrance and face paint, the jewellery hanging from the dressing table…</p><p>Definitely <em>Lord Golden’s</em> presence, though. Nothing about this spoke of the Fool.</p><p>Fitz sighed and pulled the door closed behind him. For a moment he eyed the locked door at the other side of the anteroom, his fingers itching – it might be locked, but he’d been an assassin for far too long to not know how to crack a simple lock like that. Yes, it would be a breach of privacy, but hadn’t the Fool done something similar too, crossing boundaries and sharing things Fitz had considered private with complete strangers? Wouldn't he be justified, taking his revenge?</p><p>But he wouldn’t stoop so low.</p><p>He shook his head and went to his own little room. It had been a long day, both Chade and Dutiful taking up much of his time and energy, his worries about Hap a constant rattle in the back of his mind, and he longed for undisturbed sleep, peace and quiet.</p><p>He probably shouldn’t, yet. The proper, servant-like thing was to stay up until his master had come back again, help him out of his boots and clothes, perhaps bring up hot water for a bath…</p><p>But just the thought of that kind of subservience made a bitter taste rise to his mouth. No, this charade went only this far. He wasn’t the Fool, he couldn’t disappear entirely into a different role, ignoring all his true feelings. Let Lord Golden draw his own bath, if he insisted on having one. And as for dressing and undressing – well, who would know better to do that than this master of disguises?</p><p>Fitz made a quiet noise of disgust and closed his door behind him with a bang. He quickly stripped off his boots and coat and made to lie down, then stopped.</p><p>It <em>was </em>late. Maybe something had happened to the Fool?</p><p>Or maybe he was just canoodling with some useful Lord or Lady full of information.</p><p>Fitz dithered for a moment, then opened his door again, leaving it open just a crack, letting the light of the anteroom come in. That way, he would definitely notice if the Fool came in. And if he hadn’t even past midnight, then perhaps Fitz would go looking for him.</p><p>But until then, he would sleep.</p><p>Satisfied, he lay down on the pallet and closed his eyes, and tried to direct his thoughts away from insufferable Lords and their mysteries.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>His back was aching.</p><p>Sleep hadn't come as easily as he'd hoped, what dreams he had disturbing and messy. And they hadn't lasted long, either: with that low throbbing in his spine intensifying with every breath he took, sleep had become impossible. </p><p>He winced and turned onto his side. It had never bothered him this much while he was living in his little cottage, but something about this place, or maybe the life he led here as a servant, was turning the usual mild ache into a blinding stab of pain.</p><p>He turned onto his other side and sighed.</p><p>“What on <em>earth </em>are you doing in there?” a voice called out.</p><p>Fitz squeezed his eyes shut, annoyed.</p><p>The Fool had come in a little past midnight, just when Fitz had been close to go look for him. He hadn’t said a single word – not that Fitz had been expecting that – and had disappeared into his own bedroom barely a minute after coming in, both of them completely ignoring the existence of the other.</p><p>Not anymore, though, apparently.</p><p>“Badgerlock!” Lord Golden snapped.</p><p>Fitz gritted his teeth, then got out of bed and put his head out of the door. “What?”</p><p>The Fool – or rather, Lord Golden – was standing by the mirror, his head half-turned and the light of the candles catching his profile. “Your tossing and turning is disturbing me,” he said, his tone firmly locked in Lord Golden’s aristocratic, supercilious cadence.</p><p>“Trouble falling asleep,” Fitz said, curtly.</p><p>Lord Golden frowned and tilted his head, still not meeting Fitz’s eyes. “Why?”</p><p>“No reason.”</p><p>“Badgerlock,” Lord Golden said impatiently. “If there’s something wrong, I need to know. Do I need to send you to the physician for a sleeping draught?”</p><p>“I…” Fitz shook his head and ran his hand through his loose hair, closing his eyes, too tired to argue. “It’s the wound on my back, actually. It’s keeping my awake.”</p><p>No reply came.</p><p>Fitz opened his eyes. Lord Golden was looking at him with a very odd look in his eyes, something close to his own true self in that expression.</p><p>But then he huffed in annoyance and turned back to the mirror. “Sleep in my bed, then.”</p><p>Fitz blinked twice. “Sorry?”</p><p> “My bed. It’s significantly softer than your sorry excuse for a mattress.”</p><p>“But – but I can’t,” Fitz said, taken aback. “It’s yours.”</p><p>“It’s big enough for two. Or three, even, or four slim people,” he added, glancing at the forementioned four-poster monstrosity of a bed, just visible through the half-open door of the bedroom. “I’m not sure what they think I get up to in there.”</p><p>“But – ”</p><p>“Tom,” Lord Golden said, his voice prim and impatient, “you’re no use to me if you go about limping and stumbling all day.”</p><p>“What will the servants say?” Fitz said, a little desperately. “If they come in and see me in there?”</p><p>“Nothing they’re not saying already,” Lord Golden said. He caught Fitz’s look in the mirror and rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I always wake up before them, I’ll make sure you can get out again before anyone notices. Now get in there before I change my mind.”</p><p>Fitz considered. Despite his annoyance with Lord Golden, he had a point. A night of bad sleep had its effect the day after, and right now he needed his wits about them. Besides, the pain in his back was getting harsh enough that it would start being a bother even the steams wouldn’t fix. A good night’s sleep in a decent bed would definitely be the best choice.</p><p>He could always go upstairs, to Chade’s old room. The bed there was nearly as comfortable as Lord Golden’s. But that would mean being cut off completely from these rooms, not hearing when the Fool came and went, and… And that wasn’t a very pleasant idea either, for some reason.</p><p>Lord Golden was still looking at him, arms crossed and lips thin with annoyance. There was no sense in arguing with him when he was in this mood, either. So really…</p><p>Fitz heaved a sigh and stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him and heading for other bedroom. Lord Golden’s eyes followed him in the mirror as he crossed the room, but he didn’t make a move to follow.  </p><p>The damn problem was that Lord Golden was right. The bed <em>was </em>significantly more comfortable, and with the soft giving support of the feather mattress he finally could relax without feeling like the knobs of his spine were trying to fuse together.</p><p>“Don’t you have to sleep?” Fitz called out, scooting over as far to the side as he could.</p><p>But Lord Golden made no move to join him. “Later,” he said, and for a moment his voice sounded warm and fond, like the Fool again…</p><p>But nothing else came, and Fitz was too tired to decipher looks and tones of voice.</p><p>A moment later he was asleep.</p><p>***</p><p>
  <em>It’s dark, he can’t see, his body aches and chains bite into his wrists – </em>
</p><p>
  <em>- you’re going to die, bastard – </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And his body seizes up, limbs refusing to obey him and there’s a laugh and somewhere Nighteyes howls in panic – </em>
</p><p>
  <em>- Fitz? – </em>
</p><p>
  <em>- pain erupts from his shoulder and he tumbles down, blood smearing his vision and Molly reaches for him but she’s too far away and he’s falling – </em>
</p><p>
  <em>- Fitz! – </em>
</p><p>
  <em>- he’s falling and Regal stares at him and he’s going to die, he’s going to die here in this dungeon with his king dead and his friends in danger – </em>
</p><p>“Fitz!”</p><p>Fitz woke up with a gasp and bolted upright. His skin was slick with cold sweat and it was dark, he couldn’t see, and there was someone close, he rose his arm to fight them off but a cool hand grasped his wrist –</p><p> “Fitz, <em>Fitz</em>, calm down. You’re all right.”</p><p>He blinked and looked around wildly. The Fool’s familiar pale face was hovering in front of him, eyes wide in fear.</p><p>“Where – ” Fitz croaked, shaking with adrenaline.</p><p>“What happened?” the Fool asked, panicked.</p><p>Fitz stared at him.</p><p>Gone was the supercilious attitude, the aristocratic languid drawl. The candles had gone out too, and in the white light of the moon he looked colourless, black and white, as pale as he’d been when they had been children.</p><p>Fitz made a weak noise and fell forward, holding on to the Fool’s thin shoulders as if it was the only thing keeping him afloat.</p><p>He was still trembling. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still there, in that dungeon, his sanity being slowly and methodically being stripped away from him.</p><p>“Fitz,” the Fool murmured, somewhere close to his ear. “Fitz, calm down, it was just a dream. You’re safe, now.”</p><p>He gritted his teeth and leaned his forehead against the crook of the Fool’s neck. “I know,” he said, and his voice still sounded weak. “I know, I know, but…”</p><p>“Oh, Fitz,” the Fool said, his voice warm with compassion and grief.</p><p>Fitz clung closer to him. It was like he was the one point of safety, of comfort in a world filled with shadows. As if he only had to pull away from this embrace and he’d be alone again, in the cold and dark.</p><p>He’d missed the Fool, which was so strange to think, but he had, he’d missed his friend, he’d missed this…</p><p>“It’s all right,” the Fool kept saying, his gloved hand running down over Fitz’s back like he would to comfort a crying child. “It’s all right, I’m here, it’s…”</p><p>He pulled back and looked at the Fool’s face. The Fool’s hand – the bare one – stroked his cheek. He was frowning, and his eyes were shining, and his mouth was open a little.</p><p>He looked like home.</p><p>Without thinking about it, driving by a blind instinct for comfort, Fitz leaned in and pressed his lips against the Fool’s.</p><p>The Fool made a little helpless sound, then kissed back, his bare hand finding the back of Fitz’s neck. His lips were as soft as a woman’s and it felt safe, and warm, and the Fool was being so very careful, like –</p><p>Like he was being protected.</p><p>“Fitz,” he whispered as he pulled away. “Fitz, Beloved, this isn’t – you’re delirious. Do you even know where you are? Who I am?”</p><p>“I’m in Buckkeep,” Fitz said. “You’re my Fool. Please, just…”</p><p>The Fool stared at him, his widened pupils making his usually light eyes look very dark.</p><p>Fitz closed his eyes and fell forward again, burying his face against the Fool’s neck. He didn’t know how to put this in words, the way his entire body, his entire being just longed for closeness, the way this nearness seemed like the only thing standing between him and the darkness.</p><p>“Fitz,” the Fool said, his hand in Fitz’s hair again. “Fitz, do you really want…?”</p><p>He couldn’t answer that in words. So he did the only thing he could think of, which was to pull back a little and find the Fool’s mouth again.</p><p>The Fool made another of those little, weak noises. He kissed back, then pulled away, his nose nuzzling Fitz’s cheek. “All right then, just let me…”</p><p>He let himself be pushed back onto the bed, then reached up and hooked his hand behind the Fool’s neck. Fine hair brushed his fingers and he pulled – he wanted that kiss again, that feeling of being cared for.</p><p>There was a sound that could be a breathless laugh, or a quiet sob, and the Fool leaned over him and kissed him again, and Fitz felt the tension seep out of him.</p><p>He turned onto his side. The Fool’s gloved hand ran slowly down his back, found its way under the shirt and then lingered on the scar, curious fingers very very gently exploring the ridged edge. For a moment they could’ve been two boys again, nothing but them in their safe space in the mountains, the fire crackling and the Fool by his bedside, keeping guard.</p><p>“Do you want…” the Fool’s voice came, quiet and shaking a little.</p><p>He nodded without fully knowing what he was agreeing to, but then cool fingers found their way beneath his waistband and yes, he did want this, he did want to <em>feel</em>.</p><p>He was still lying in the crook of the Fool’s arm, eyes half-closed, basking like a cat being petted. It was strange, this – it wasn’t the ardour that possessed him when he was with women, it was much calmer, much more careful than that. And yet, this had what he’d found so lacking with Jinna; feeling, connection, a bond between them – more than with anyone else, more perhaps even than with Molly.</p><p>He felt <em>safe</em>.</p><p>The Fool was saying something, words he couldn’t quite catch, which almost seemed like another language; but he was here, he was close, and there was someone who <em>knew</em>. Who knew everything. Who knew why the nightmare –</p><p>No. He threw his arm around the Fool’s shoulders and buried his head against the Fool’s neck. <em>The Scentless one</em>, Nighteyes had always called him, and it was true that the Fool didn’t smell like sweat and soap like other people did, but there was something about him, something that made being here so comforting…</p><p>Fitz bit his lip and dug his nails into the Fool’s shoulder as the hand changed position, moved quicker. He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, holding on, locking everything out except this, except the familiar real person pressed close to him and the way it made him feel –</p><p>“Fitz,” the Fool breathed in his ear as he arched his back, ecstasy overtaking him. “Beloved.”</p><p>Fitz fell back, panting.</p><p>The Fool very slowly pulled his hand back.</p><p>Fitz watched him from half-lidded eyes. He still looked white, and the expression on his face was one Fitz recognised from a long time ago. Something like disbelief, or wonder, a hope so fragile it didn’t dare to turn into delight.</p><p>“Beloved,” Fitz murmured.</p><p>The Fool slowly reached out and tucked a strand of hair away from Fitz’s face. “You’re safe,” he said, softly.</p><p>And Fitz closed his eyes, certain in the knowledge that the Fool was right.</p><p>***</p><p>A clunk woke him.</p><p>Fitz blinked, confused, as he saw not ceiling but… fabric?</p><p>“Badgerlock,” a voice snapped. “I don’t have all day.”</p><p>Fitz sat up slowly and rubbed his face. The Fool’s bed. Why was he in the Fool’s bed? Had he been injured? Or…</p><p>No. He remembered now, Lord Golden all but ordering him to change beds, in his oh-so-charming way. Because… because he’d had a nightmare, and his noises had woken up Lord Golden and then he’d mentioned his back – was that what had happened? It didn’t sound quite right.</p><p>“Go get dressed.”</p><p>He nodded, vaguely. There was something bugging him, something at the back of his head, some half-faded image – come on, what was it…</p><p>A kiss. Someone’s hand on his face.</p><p>He quickly glanced up. The Fool was standing at his chest of drawers, his back to Fitz.</p><p>He hadn’t had a dream like that since he’d been a boy. Had he really… And in the Fool’s <em>bed</em>? While he’d been sleeping there, next to Fitz?</p><p>Would he have noticed?</p><p>“Badgerlock,” the Fool said again, with Lord Golden’s sharp impatience.</p><p>The Fool was far too observant to not notice, but he was, apparently, sensitive enough not to mention anything about it. Even his snappish manner now was a kindness, in a way, giving Fitz the safety of his guise as a servant to retreat behind.</p><p>Fitz smiled.</p><p>The Fool turned around, and then blinked as he saw Fitz’s face. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, and for a moment there was nothing of the aristocrat about him. They could’ve been back in the cottage.</p><p>But then the Fool shook himself and turned back, picking up a goblet of water. “Get up and get dressed,” he said sharply, “before the servants come in. Wouldn’t want them to gossip, would we?” he added, with heavy sarcasm.</p><p>“No, Lord Golden,” Fitz said obediently. He swung his legs from the bed and got up, his hands on his lower back as he stretched.</p><p>It didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had yesterday. He tried turning, experimentally, but no matter which way he bent, the pain was a dull ache at most.</p><p>“Better?” Lord Golden asked, sounding like he didn’t much care if the answer was <em>no </em>or <em>yes</em>.</p><p>“It is,” Fitz said. “Maybe I should sleep in your bed more often.”</p><p>There was a cough, and Fitz turned to see the Fool bent double, one hand still holding his goblet and the other pressed against his chest as he choked.</p><p>“Are you all right?” Fitz asked, stepping forward, slightly alarmed.</p><p>“Yes!” the Fool said, voice hoarse, still coughing. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>The Fool wiped his mouth and gave Fitz a look, and once again, he looked like himself. “Yes,” he said, smiling, fond and for once, completely sincerely. “Yes, I’m all right, Fitz. Now go get dressed, and try to comb your hair, you look like a horror.”</p><p>But it was said with such obvious affection that Fitz couldn’t really take offense. He smiled back, then turned back to his pallet in the side room.</p><p>It wouldn’t last, of course. Soon enough they’d go back to their roles, and all of Fitz's resentment and confusion would return and he'd lose this sense of connection again. Simply too much had happened, after all, he couldn't just go back to the easy friendship of his youth.</p><p> And yet, seeing the Fool's smile like that... </p><p>No, it wouldn't last. It couldn't. But for the moment - </p><p>For the moment, he wiould enjoy what he got.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>